The Hunt
by SupernaturalTMIDiaries
Summary: Katherine Pierce has found herself bored in a human nightclub.. and everyone knows that a bored Katherine.. is a dangerous Katherine.


I sat at the bar. The club around me thrumming with activity. Humans dancing, swaying to the beat of the music that filled the atmosphere with an energy that was almost electrical. I looked up In time to see the bartender set another drink in front of me, a somewhat nervous smile playing his features. I flashed him a answering smirk, and had the satisfaction of hearing his heart beat pick up as he swallowed thickly. I chuckled lightly as I turned away, my eyes scanning the crowd. The bartender would make a decent meal, but willing humans weren't as fun, I was looking for someone more confident. Ha. There. A young man, no older than 21 it seemed, leaning against the wall looking utterly bored. Like he had seen too much of this to be amused by it anymore, my chocolate eyes narrowed in one him, I tilted my head as I examined him further. Feeling my gaze, he glanced over his blue eyes resting on me. A cocky smirk curved his lips; he looked me over appraisingly, like I was an object for auction. Setting my glass down I stood and wove through the crowd towards him, my steps lithe and graceful as a jungle cats. Pausing in front of him, I peered up through my lashes in a mischievous manner, this seemed to amuse him. I could sense his growing excitement, the scent made my gums ache with hunger. Internally I scoffed at how easily fooled humans were, so weak to their emotions and hormones, so predictable. Maybe if I was less hungry I would play with him, his bad boy demeanor would be broken like so many before him. I ran a tongue over my teeth as my gums throbbed again, reminding me of my growing thirst. Saying nothing I circled him slowly as he slouched off the wall, running a finger lazily along his collar bone, he grinned lopsidedly a slightly boyish smile with a bite of darkness. He was used to this, used to girls throwing themselves at him. My lips twitched, only slightly giving away my amusement at how shocked he'd be when the tables turned, I strolled off sensing his eyes on me, confused . I tilted my head slightly to look over my shoulder, he straightened and followed me.

Outside I led him to a darkened alley, the pavement damp with earlier rain. The air crisp, though my breath didn't show. I heard the door open and close behind me, the familiar clapping of shoes against ground, loud and sloppy. Human, His. I paused waiting for him to catch up. Meeting his gaze I sighed quietly. "And what's your name handsome?" my tone was a purr, he shrugged. "Does it matter?" I raised a brow questioningly, puzzled by his answer, though I didn't allow it to show. I played the short conversation over in my head then whirled to face him, my eyes narrowed. "Silly boy" I spat, my hands moving to my hips. " I had been planning to play with you a bit, but you've managed to annoy me." my tone sounded almost regretful, though there was no such emotion in my thoughts. Grabbing his throat I slammed him against the alley wall, he gasped as the air was forced from his lungs, sputtering and coughing. " How very rude, that is no way to treat a lady" I continued, clucking my tongue. He glared at me, I could sense his confliction. How was I this strong? what did I mean? were probably the main questions in his thoughts. I grinned widely, baring my sharpened canines, his face drained of colour as he watched my irises darken, the whites turning crimson in preparation of feeding. "Now how about an apology?" I purred, leaning closer to his terrified face. When only silence followed I pouted dramatically, the predator in me slowly taking over. His mouth opened and closed, though no words followed.

"Pity" I sighed. A low growl slipped through my teeth and I darted forward, my teeth sinking into the base of his throat. He screamed, my grip tightened as his instinct told him to bolt. He thrashed uselessly, my strength easily overpowering him. His blood was clean and moist against my tongue, tasting sweet as it slipped down my throat. Warmth spread through my body as my hunger slowly started to dissipate. Even when I had had my fill I continued to drink, the fear making his blood that much more brilliant. His struggles weakened, heart beat stuttering and slowing as it struggled to pump the ever lessening amount of blood to vital organs. He slumped against the wall, and I considered, only slightly to stop and let him go. Maybe he'd live, maybe not. It really made no such difference to me. After another few minutes I leaned away, letting go of him. He slumped to the ground, his eyes rolling back as oxygen deprivation damaged his brain, shutting down his body, killing him. I watched closely, tilting my head in a vaguely cat-like way, my pupils widening to nearly fill my iris. His chest rattled, a death rattle I knew well, and he stilled, his mouth falling slack as one last faint breath left his lips. That last breathed had always seemed eerie to me, like it was the spirit of my victim exiting their body. Leaving behind a shell of their former selves. I shook off the feeling, scolding myself as old memories attempted to push themselves to the present of my mind. I didn't believe in such things, not really. I had long ago given up any thoughts that maybe there was someone higher watching over us, 500 years long ago. With a flip of my hair, I wiped the blood off my lips and left the alley. Only to nearly walk straight into another figure, someone lean and dark. I looked up and a chuckle left my lips, the answering smile was bemused as the figure put out his arm for me to loop mine through.

"Now, did you really have to make such a mess Katherine" he light tone scolded me gently, I rolled my eyes.

"I didn't /have/ to. I wanted to. You know how it is Mathieu" I tilted my head to one side as if daring him to disagree. He considered then inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"That is true." He allowed after a moment, pursing his lips. I laughed lightly again, my stance more relaxed in the presence of a friend. A dark witch. Long ago turned away from spirits, he was nearly as bad as me. Nearly, though not quite so, he was still plagued by a conscience. I was not. We walked casually down the street, passing civilians as they so obliviously went on with their evenings.

"Why did you not compel him?" Mathieu's soft question broke the silence; I frowned then shrugged one shoulder carelessly.

"Compulsion lessens the fear. He did not deserve that." My tone was again a purr, full of the malice of a cat as it cornered a mouse.


End file.
